Lions Gate via Everett Collection
When we last left our heroes, they had conquered all opponents in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, returned home to their newly refurbished living quarters in District 12, and fallen haplessly to the cannibalism of PTSD. And now we're back! Hitching our wagons once again to laconic Katniss Everdeen and her sweet-natured, just-for-the-camera boyfriend Peeta Mellark as they gear up for a second go at the Capitol's killing fields.
But hold your horses — there's a good hour and a half before we step back into the arena. However, the time spent with Katniss and Peeta before the announcement that they'll be competing again for the ceremonial Quarter Quell does not drag. In fact, it's got some of the film franchise's most interesting commentary about celebrity, reality television, and the media so far, well outweighing the merit of The Hunger Games' satire on the subject matter by having Katniss struggle with her responsibilities as Panem's idol. Does she abide by the command of status quo, delighting in the public's applause for her and keeping them complacently saturated with her smiles and curtsies? Or does Katniss hold three fingers high in opposition to the machine into which she has been thrown? It's a quarrel that the real Jennifer Lawrence would handle with a castigation of the media and a joke about sandwiches, or something... but her stakes are, admittedly, much lower. Harvey Weinstein isn't threatening to kill her secret boyfriend.
Through this chapter, Katniss also grapples with a more personal warfare: her devotion to Gale (despite her inability to commit to the idea of love) and her family, her complicated, moralistic affection for Peeta, her remorse over losing Rue, and her agonizing desire to flee the eye of the public and the Capitol. Oftentimes, Katniss' depression and guilty conscience transcends the bounds of sappy. Her soap opera scenes with a soot-covered Gale really push the limits, saved if only by the undeniable grace and charisma of star Lawrence at every step along the way of this film. So it's sappy, but never too sappy.
In fact, Catching Fire is a masterpiece of pushing limits as far as they'll extend before the point of diminishing returns. Director Francis Lawrence maintains an ambiance that lends to emotional investment but never imposes too much realism as to drip into territories of grit. All of Catching Fire lives in a dreamlike state, a stark contrast to Hunger Games' guttural, grimacing quality that robbed it of the life force Suzanne Collins pumped into her first novel.
Once we get to the thunderdome, our engines are effectively revved for the "fun part." Katniss, Peeta, and their array of allies and enemies traverse a nightmare course that seems perfectly suited for a videogame spin-off. At this point, we've spent just enough time with the secondary characters to grow a bit fond of them — deliberately obnoxious Finnick, jarringly provocative Johanna, offbeat geeks Beedee and Wiress — but not quite enough to dissolve the mystery surrounding any of them or their true intentions (which become more and more enigmatic as the film progresses). We only need adhere to Katniss and Peeta once tossed in the pit of doom that is the 75th Hunger Games arena, but finding real characters in the other tributes makes for a far more fun round of extreme manhunt.
But Catching Fire doesn't vie for anything particularly grand. It entertains and engages, having fun with and anchoring weight to its characters and circumstances, but stays within the expected confines of what a Hunger Games movie can be. It's a good one, but without shooting for succinctly interesting or surprising work with Katniss and her relationships or taking a stab at anything but the obvious in terms of sending up the militant tyrannical autocracy, it never even closes in on the possibility of being a great one.
3.5/5
Follow @Michael Arbeiter
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Dave Grohl became the latest star to share the stage with The Rolling Stones when he joined the rockers at their show on Saturday (18May13). The Foo Fighters frontman was a surprise guest at the band's sold-out concert in Anaheim, California, where he was brought out unannounced to play guitar and share vocals with Sir Mick Jagger during Bitch.
British DJ Fearne Cotton, who has a baby boy with guitarist Ronnie Wood's son Jesse, was among the fans at the Honda Center who went wild when Grohl turned up.
In a post on her Twitter.com, Cotton tweeted, "I thought the show couldn't get any better and then Grohl walked out! Dream gig..."
There's been no shortage of famous faces onstage at The Rolling Stones' ongoing 50 & Counting tour - Katy Perry, John Fogerty, Gwen Stefani, Keith Urban and Tom Waits have all appeared at previous concerts.

It was a night of firsts on American Idol on Thursday. Ryan Seacrest delivered the specific order in which voters chose the top 10 contestants, Nicki Minaj got so upset that Keith Urban and Randy Jackson had to console her, and judge favorite Curtis Finch Jr. was voted off by America.
But, Curtis sang "I Believe I Can Fly" and made us believe that for the first time, the judges might expend the Save this early in the competition. Nicki was so adamant that Curtis should stay that she exclaimed, "If you go home, I go home" to the eliminated singer. Unfortunately for Nicki, she couldn't convince her fellow judges to give Curtis the shot and the gospel singer was sent home. After all, if America votes a singer out this early on, the Save is practically a waste because they'll likely just vote the rescued singer off again next week. Randy and Keith were right to reserve the save for another day.
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Of course, this potential Save situation was only the most important of the strange occurrences on Thursday's wildly different Idol results show. The second most mind-blowing change was the detailed reveal of voters' choices. Not only did Ryan dole out information about whose state gave each singer the most votes, but he revealed the top three (in no particular order) and the subsequent fourth through tenth place singers in a very deliberate and numerical order, down to the eliminated contestant Curtis.
RELATED: Why Was Nicki Minaj Late for the Top 10?
How America Voted:
Top 3: Candice Glover, Kree Harrison, Angie Miller
4: Lazaro Arbos
5: Amber Holcomb
6: Janelle Arthur
7: Burnell Taylor
8: Paul Jolley
9: Devin Velez
10: Curtis Finch, Jr. ELIMINATED
But the weirdness didn't stop there. They also brought in the Mayor of Kree's hometown in Texas to give her the key to the city, something Hollywood taught me can only happen on the steps of City Hall in that town. Producers brought on your mom's favorite band Bon Jovi to turn the Idol stage into a New Jersey dive bar for four minutes after bringing the Idols on to sing the new single from Dreamworks' The Croods like participants in a theme park parade. (Phillip Phillips' performance was expectedly awesome, but that doesn't really help this freaky narrative.)
The final slice of oddity, during the hour-long broadcast was the young man who proudly told Nicki "I glorify weirdness," Charlie Askew, and fellow Top 20 cast-off Aubrey Cleland. The two singers returned to vie for a sponsored spot on the Idols Live! Tour (thanks, cell phone service I'm not going to name on principle!), singing their respective tunes in hopes of attracting votes from the Idol public. It's sweet, especially considering the way in which Charlie, the talented yet fragile songwriter, was cast off last week, but the presence of this extra moving part during the results show just contributes to the disjointed feel of the televised hour.
Were we finding out who our Top 9 are? Or were we paying a visit to the American Idol variety hour and ho-down? For a while, I wasn't sure. I half expected to people eating cotton candy and holding giant stuffed Tweety Birds in the audience like they were at some sort of summer carnival.
Strangeness aside, the first Season 12 elimination proved a few very important points. First: don't try to pull one over on the Idol audience. We are a cutthroat group with photographic memory. Curtis is far more talented than some of the remaining singers (ahem, Paul Jolley, Devin Velez, and Lazaro Arbos), but just as I was turned off by his behavior towards Charlie during group week and allowed it to color my season-long opinion of Curtis, voters appear to be spurned as well. On this show, anything can happen and now that voting has been made easier, all it takes is one false move to take down an otherwise talented contestant.
The second takeaway is an exciting one: The top five consists of four incredible ladies and Lazaro, which means Idol's dream (and I'll admit, my own hope) of seeing a woman win American Idol this year just might come true, especially since voters don't seem to be taking to dynamo Burnell Taylor who is wasting away in seventh place. That disappointment aside, no one deserves those top three spots more than Kree, Angie, and Candice, but now that they've already hit the right notes for both the judges and the voters can they keep this game up?
Did America get it right with Curtis? Were the judges right not to use the save this early?
Follow Kelsea on Twitter @KelseaStahler
[Photo Credit: George Holz/Fox]
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It's Hollywood week, and we're supposed to be floating on little clouds of Nicki Minaj's cotton candy hair and Mariah Carey's never-ending collection of butterfly accessories.We're supposed to be in heaven. But no. It's not that simple. American Idol has to be fresh and new, so they have to change all the rules of Hollywood week. What they don't seem to understand is they they just drew a mustache on the Mona Lisa of reality singing competition challenges.
Nigel Lythgoe waltzes out to tell a surprisingly husky group of competitors that the rules have changed this year. Rule 1: See how there are only men in this room? That's the first change. Just think of it as a middle school dance. Hollywood Week 1 is the wall where all the boys are standing, the one with the basketball scoreboard hovering above their heads. Hollywood Week 2 is the opposite wall, with all the girls twirling their hair while lingering close to the emergency exit. It's unnecessary, and it severely disrupts the usual ebb and flow of the dance of Hollywood week drama.
Rule 2: Producers choose the groups, no ifs, ands, or buts. Sure, in theory this means we'll get multitudes of groups butting heads rather than just the few that are comprised of shy guys, stragglers, and raging ego-maniacs, but in practice, it means continuous crimes against music, endless mild disagreement, and so much distraction that even some of the best singers in the competition are thrown off their game. It's a mess, and not the great kind. The worst result may be that terrible performances are rewarded with a second chance time and again this episode, perhaps as an acknowledgement that this new process was bad for everyone, but first, the judges did their best to thin out the herd in the initial sudden death speed round.
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Most important to note at this point in the competition are those folks who lost it all in a matter of seconds. First up was Karl Skinner, who we fell in love with in Oklahoma City only to let go too soon in a fit of Coca-Cola-driven fervor. Unfortunately, Karl shows himself to be all growl and no true vocals, and he's sent home along with the group of strange rapscallions (including a man who drops a paper heart with all the ceremony of Criss Angel releasing a dove while he delivers his emo audition). He's followed by the singing doctor a.k.a. Dr. Calvin Peters, who I chastised for leaving behind his job helping to heal burn victims to pursue fame when we met him back in Charlotte. Next comes cutie-patootie firefighter Dustin Watts who was always lovable, but rather generic in this mixed bag of contestants.
Next comes the challenge. Cortez Shaw shows up with too much confidence for his own good, attempting to belt out the Whitney Houston classic "I Will Always Love You." And it's not good. His off-key, cocky performance starts a debate among the judges when Mariah inexplicably likes him (girl, is your falsetto range affecting your brain?). Nicki actually says she is "disgusted" and Randy says the only thing the kid needed to hear: "You ain't Whitney." Yet somehow, this cocky little smart-ass gets another shot at the big time. Sure, he sang a much tougher song than anyone else, but he clearly knows nothing about his vocal ability and that spells elimination.
The fake-outs continue as Nicki carries out a few jokes of her own. Her first victim is Bryant Tadeo, who she gets to admit he's tired so she can tell him "It's good that your tired because you're going to have a lot of time to sleep now that we're sending you home." But it's all a cruel ruse, Bryant's just dealing with a little emotional trauma now. No big deal. At least Bryant got a lesson in being grateful and excited about Idol. Oh and also, there's the part where he gets to stay. That's not bad either.
Lastly, we watch Brian Rittenberry, whose adorable wife survived cancer and then spent the second half of his audition sweetly fawning over Keith Urban. He attempts to country-fy Brian McKnight's "Back at One," and while he's still got strength and sweetness, it's clear the rough quality of his voice is serving to camouflage the lack of vocal ability. The lovable lug is sent home, and it's not pleasant to watch his dreams crash, the show is about singing and it was the right thing to do to let him go. It's a skill our judges only seem to have half of the time as auditions continue.
Almost as suddenly as it rehearsals began (because there was no time devoted to the cruel, yet fascinating process of self-selecting groups), the performances were underway, undercutting the vicious footage we've come to expect. It's probably better for our souls this way, but we were okay with the consequences of verbal sparring and bullys bested by their more talented teammates. Luckily, not everything has changed. We still get the requisite bathroom rehearsal. Unnecessary beat-boxing (unless you're Justin Timberlake or Blake Lewis, beat-boxers need not apply, but oh boy do they ever). We're also treated to an ego-crushing wake-up reel of the contestants before they've prettied themselves. Well, everyone except for Johnny Keyser, who apparently rolls out of bed with perfectly feathered hair and a cavalier attitude. And while even I'm jealous of his charmed life, full of eyes so sparkly they blind the sun and hair so naturally perfect it should be in a museum, his wake-up routine isn't exactly the highlight of Hollywood week. Then again, I'm not really sure what was.
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First group of the night is Mathheads, comprised of Matenee Treco, Matheus Fernandes, Gabe Brown, and Nick Bodington. After milking Matheus's tale of shortness for all it's worth (even having the kid lay on his bed so he could put his hopes out into the ether, "God, please help me. I've been waiting so long for this," even though he just had a fairly sizable shot on Ryan Murphy's The Glee Project. Matenee's got a case of the crazy eyes, Gabe has an issue or two with really singing out when he's not using his gutteral growl, Matheus rocks out like it's still 1984 and Van Halen is the pinnacle of musical fame, and Nick is simply so overshadowed by his cohorts that I couldn't remember a distinguishing factor about him if I tried. "Somebody to Love" by Queen earns them all another shot at the top 24, but I'm still wary of Matheus and his seemingly out of control ego.
Johnny Keyser, his pretty face, and his group take on a song that he didn't actually know, because he doesn't listen to human music, just the sounds of a million angels singing directly into his ear. "Reach Out (I'll Be There)" may be a classic Four Tops song that most fans of aural joy have heard at least once in their lives, provides a problem for Johnny in that it is a total blind spot. It means a complete jumble of misguided voices for Johnny's group.Johnny forgets his lyrics, but manages to keep on humming. Kareen Clark has the words down, but he's flatter than a piece of plywood. The harmonies are awful. Despite the fact that Aussie Keith can't believe that he knows a song that all-American kid Johnny doesn't, Johnny is sent on through while the other move on. Of course they keep the hot guy. This is Hollywood after all. What's Tinseltown without a few attractive people to keep us interested? (A town full of talented people who were judged fairly? Who wants that.)
And the disappoint keeps on keeping on. Curtis Finch and his unbelievable gospel/R&amp;B voice have made him one of the voices to beat in the competition, but as it turns out, he's kind of a jerk. When his assigned teammate, scrawny little pop-punk-loving Charlie, gets sick, Curtis sees it as an opportunity to do better for himself, with the kid out of the way. Their third teammate does everything he can to help Charlie, even admitting it to the camera while Curtis stood aside expressionless, totally aware that taking credit for helping Charlie would be unwise after the truth had been caught on camera. When the trio performs, however, you'd never know there was an issue among them, but Curtis's capable runs are tinged with the knowledge that he would have let that poor kid hang out to dry if he needed to. Apparently, he didn't get the memo about everything he says being taped and presented to America so that they might one day choose to vote (or more likely not vote) for the guy who was too ambitious to help a guy in need. Naturally, the judges don't know about his backstage antics and they're wowed, sending all three through while Mariah inflated Curtis' ego by telling him she's been waiting all day to hear him sing. With a victory on his hands, Curtis is all team spirit suddenly, but I can't imagine that would be the case if the song had put him in danger. If only she wasn't right about his talent. Selfish or not, the guy can destroy any song he touches.
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Two more relatively boring groups squeak on by, giving speech-impediment sufferer Micah Johnson and his teammates Vincent Powell, Marvin Calderon, and David Willis a ticket to the next round. Also raking in the luck was sign language teacher Nate Tao's group of leather-jacket-lovers, who all went easily to the next round, even Cortez, despite his tendency to hop into off-key territory during "Some Kind of Wonderful." If Cortez keeps getting through, we're going to have the male equivalent of Karen Rodriguez on our hands again.
While we wade through two groups who can't even muster up a fraction of the lyrics to either "What Makes You Beautiful" (only the most infection pop song courtesy of the biggest boy band on the planet, One Direction) or any number of other well-known songs during this, a singing competition presumably filled with folks so set on singing they might want to listen to artists other than themselves. Two groups of lyric-losers come through and only Paul Jolley and Will White survive.
B-Side or the group formerly known as Three Men and a Baby (get it, because that one kid is 15 and the rest of the dudes are strapping men!), try a little Maroon 5 and Keith comes to his fellow reality judge Adam Levine's defense: "Adam Levin isn't dead yet, but he's alredy rolling over in his grave." Morbid, Urban. Gupreet Singh Sarin, Nicki's favorite "Turbanator" from New York, leads the group, many of whom forget the lyrics completely while Sarin at least fills his empty lyrical space with some scatting. The sounds are simply cacophonic and even though Gupreet does his best to salvage his flub, he's not much stronger than he was during auditions when Nicki had to beg her fellow judges to give him a shot. Yet somehow, the judges deliberate and come out with the idea that these guys, who blew their group audition, deserve another chance. Even Gupreet looks confused as Nicki exclaims her joy over her "baby group" living to see another day of competition. She says she pushes them through because "we are humans and we forget the lyrics, but it's about what you do in those moments that makes you a star," and we hear you, Nicki, but these guys don't seem to be the ones to use that card up on. Hopefully, I'm wrong and they heed Randy's command to simply "be better next time." Some act of God spared this undeserving group, but hopefully it will lead to somewhat of a small miracle when it comes time for solo Hollywood auditions tomorrow.
Suddenly, some glaring choice (that occurred in the last paragraph and surprised all of us) makes the judges realize they have to get tough and soon. Luckily, they are served up a nice hot plate of terrible singing to get them in the cutting mood. Last Minute, a group that included Jason Jones, Dan Wood, Jessie Lawrence, and some guy the producers didn't see a need to call by name forget their words and quite possibly how to sing, forcing Randy to burst, "How do I even judge this?" He doesn't really have to, and send the whole lot home.
Carrying on with the snooze train is a group organized by Ryan Conner Smith, who gets the singers to perform a cappella. The judges hate the lack of musical accompaniment, and Ryan's innovation (and lack of vocal prowess) is what sends him home while the rest of his group stays. Perhaps he should have heeded his vocal coach (and Katharine McPhee's mom) when she cast a disapproving look at the mention of an a cappella audition.
Burnell Taylor from Baton Rouge is known as the guy who made Mariah cry during auditions, but during Hollywood week, his group's "Some Kind of Wonderful" almost made her cry for another reason. Burnell doesn't know the words, and his vocals are suffering. Yet memories of his past performances apparently keep him alive, during the round that is supposed to be judged at face value and he and his teammate Tony Foster Jr. are safe while their cohorts pack up.
Finally, as the end of the episode approaches, the drama begins to emerge. Super 55, socially-challenged stutterer Lazaro Arbos' group is having issues. And if you ask Josh Stevens, it's because they're all spending too much time trying to fix Lazaro because he's "not from around here" and his stutter makes it hard to communicate. While Lazaro is concerned that his teammates take his speech issue as a symptom of deficient mental ability, Josh is the one showing off just how stupid he can be. Who's the one Nicki loves so much, she made a heart with her hands in his general direction during the sudden death round? Oh, Lazaro. That's right. Pipe down, Joshie. While Josh worries some more, Ryan Seacrest's voice-over hopes the group doesn't become a statistic (which is impossible because they're by default already a statistic. This isn't an STD prevention PSA. "Becoming a statistic" doesn't mean bad things happen to you.) And the only people in danger of statistichood turned out to be Josh and his buddy in bullying, Scott Fleenor, who plays the flat singer to Josh's boring 1950s sock-hop attendee. Lazaro and his teammate Christian Lopez (With the dreamy blue eyes and sultry, seductive singing voice) are the only ones worth watching, and when the voting is done, the judges only leave the talented ones standing. Scott simply sulks, but Josh takes this golden opportunity to right the wrongs he's committed since group rehearsals started to be a total ass. "If anything, you should be going on. We spent so much time perfecting what you needed to be doing," was all he could say through his tears to Lazaro before he parted ways with the talented young lad.
But Idol had more than one group tailor-made for total implosion. Country Queen pitted two eccentric young men against two strapping young country singers, one of whom has a serious issue with men who don't chop down trees or stomp around in muddy boots. JDA and Joel Wayman drive Army man Trevor Blakney nutty with their focus on showmanship, but his real problem seems to be the various ways in which both men are less attached to traditional expressions of gender. While they're completely willing to listen to his needs as a member of the group, Trevor is convinced his teammates are ignoring him and he flatout refuses to participate in the lyrical workshop that he whined so desperately for, complaining that he didn't want to "put on dresses and put glitter on." And his intolerance of people unlike himself (something producers were counting on) costs him his pride and his spot in the competition. He forgets his lyrics, while his glitter-wearing teammate JDA focuses on vocals and wins the judges approval. Everyone in the group, including so-so country singer Lee Pritchard make it through while Trevor heads home to pout about never having lost anything before. Well, my dear boy, the thing about winning is that it doesn't happen when you sit on your rear end complaining for an entire round of a cutthroat competition.
And just when it seems the judges' vow to be tougher isn't quite as strong as they made it sound, Cystic Fibrosis afflicted 15-year-old Kayden Stephenson comes to the stage with his group, which includes a mature and much more polished David Leathers Jr. (he was eliminated at the top 24 cut off last season), is up with "For the Longest Time." Idol placed all four members of DSDK together because, oh aren't they cute, they're all the youngest in the competition. Each of the youngsters delivers at the very least descent solos until it comes time for Kayden's turn. A quick shot of Mariah while Kayden flounders with his sweet, child's voice on stage makes the diva look like she's just seen something horrific. This sweet little survivor is crashing and burning before her eyes and she can't handle the thought of what the judges are going to have to tell him. Luckily, he's not sent home alone, alone Sanni M'Mairura and David make it through, but it's still heartbreaking to watch little Kayden trudge on home. While his story was awe-inspiring, it was clear during his first audition that his voice wasn't strong enough for the competition, yet the show couldn't resist sending him through and pumping him for failure. He should never have made it to the televised round of auditions; it was clear he wasn't strong enough. Yet in the end, Nicki has to convince Mariah (and any backstory-clinging viewers) that sending him home was the right thing to do. Yes, it was hard watching the panel send home a cancer survivor with an amputated leg after he wasn't good enough for the competition, but it's less difficult than watching him step even closer to his dream before it's taken away. Rip the bandaid off early, or we're left feeling horrible for a young kid who was advanced unfairly because his story looked great as an episode endcap.
Finally, the night ends in tears when Frankie Ford, who won us over with his story about singing for change on the subway in New York, lets the pressures of a contentious group mar his ability to use his God-given voice. Placed in a group with powerhouse Charles Allen, unstoppable personality Papa Peachez, and constant surprise Adam Sanders, Frankie is faced with a smorgasbord of musical variety. He could, as the least experienced member of the group, use it to learn. But instead, he spends the whole rehearsal period complaining that they don't listen to him, driving him to tears just minutes before it's time to perform. Oz, as they decide to call themselves, serves up a performance that's the vocal equivalent of the junk drawer. Nothing fits together, however great the value in each individual piece. Peachez is weak, clearly shaken up by the group dynamic. Adam does okay, but ultimately rescues his performance with a suggestive joke. And Charles is the only solid performer, pulling out a few high notes and impressive runs. Frankie, however, cries on stage, forgets his lyrics, and eventually gives up mid-phrase. Even if his story is admirable and moves us and his voice is a good one, this is not the behavior or attitude of someone who can win Idol. He's cut loose while Peachez earns another chance thanks to Nicki's incessant begging, but that's not the last we hear of the supposedly sweet singer from New York. He bursts out of auditions, barreling away from his friends and yelling about how he'll come back and win, but it's his line "They will not deny me" that is of concern. Frankie, you're a good singer, but no one, not even American Idol owes you a win or an instant ticket to fame. He can come back again, but unless he fixes that attitude, it's going to be the same story all over again.
With all that surprisingly lackluster nonsense out of the way, Thursday will deliver the solo Hollywood round, also known as the place contestants start to have their big moments (you know, those performances that seem to make the sky open up just so angels can come down and flutter around the singer on the stage?). There will be a bit of drama here and there, but what we're looking for isn't a fight or a hissy fit. We're looking for some kind of wonderful.
Of course, it will be strange to go through this process once more with the ladies next week. Hopefully, they don't leave us with such ardent fits of boredom as the menfolk.
Follow Kelsea on Twitter @KelseaStahler
[Photo Credit: Fox]
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Tuesday's all-new episode of White Collar is taking Peter (Tim DeKay) and Neal (Matt Bomer) back to a time when jazz clubs were all the rage. The pair's forgery and money laundering case leads them into one of the most iconic New York institutions, the famous Cotton Club, where guest star Diahann Carroll sings two musical numbers. Check out Hollywood.com's exclusive sneak peek at the episode, entitled "Empire City," where Peter and Neal question guest star Bill Bellamy at the famed Manhattan jazz joint.
Other guest stars include Keith Robinson, Joe Forbrich, Eliyas Qureshi and Haneefah Wood. The episode is directed by DeKay himself.
White Collar airs on Tuesdays at 10 PM ET/PT on USA Network.
[Photo Credit: USA]
Follow Sydney on Twitter @SydneyBucksbaum
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Welcome to Charlotte, North Carolina, the secret race car capital of the U.S. and the home of the constructive communication meltdown. Yep, you read that right.
From minute one of the Charlotte episode, it would seem that the producers of American Idol are brushing up on their storytelling techniques. Starting the episode in media res, or in the middle of things a knock-down dragout fight so big, they had to bring the guys from TMZ in to explain it is our introduction to our first stop in the Southern U.S. We don't immediately find out what made Nigel Lythgoe come through the set waving his arms and commanding everyone to go home, but we soon will... dunh dunh dunh.
Luckily for you, I'm not a fan of saving the good stuff for chronological order, so let's talk about this meltdown, shall we? Sure, North Carolina is home to a lot of Idol winners like Scotty McCreery and Fantasia Barrino, so we should probably on the lookout for the person who could take it all this year, but that fight! It's commanding my brain and no amount of Scotty waltzing around the racetrack in Charlotte, running into long-lost middle school friends, can distract me.
The day starts off as cheerful as can be, and Keith in particular is happy and chipper, goofing around with Nicki before delivering the kiss of death to the panel. "This is going to be good," he says. Yeah, good for us at home, not so good for y'all, Keith. After lunch, the judges are all a little testy, even Keith who's apparently tired of being dismissed as just "the country guy." When sweet blondie Summer Cunningham is dumb enough to disparage country in front of Keith, saying she's "done the country thing" and she's now seeking "something with a little more soul." Big mistake, little lady. But at the same time, who'd have thought it would be Keith's ego that set this whole thing in motion? It is, and Keith is instantly annoyed, likening the girl's innocent, yet flippant commentary to a professional insult. "It's like saying I did the brain surgeon thing," he says. Whoa, Keith. We get it, Country music is an intricate profession that requires hard work and dedication. It's not brain surgery though, my friend, no matter which way you angle the scalpel.
That's where Mariah and Randy come in, helping to ease the tension by helping young Summer, who sang "Lean on Me" with an unmistakable country music staple: the (young) LeAnn Rimes yodel. (That age distinction is essential. Have you seen that woman's Twitter lately?) They give the girl a "yes" and send her through to Hollywood on what seems like the condition that she not fight her natural knack for country and stop trying to become the next Adele. Why else would she sing so country and still insist she's more "soul"? We can hear you, lady, and you're no soul singer.
Randy and Mariah do their best to mentor this little lady, but it doesn't sit right with Nicki, who's tired of all this country music talk. If it's not about Taylor Swift loving "Super Bass" it's not for her, and she sits in her corner of the panel like a petulant, sleepy child until Mariah asks her to speak. "I didn't know we needed to have a country debate," she says. Nicki is miffed that her fellow judges (but "not you, Keith") are "picking apart" contestants and telling them what they'd be best suited for when she'd rather let love rule and have everyone do whatever they want in a creative free-for-all, which is nice in theory, but not in practice. Randy, who's been in the business for 30 years and makes a point of reminding Nicki of that, knows a thing or two about coaxing a good artist onto the right path. But it's that "30 years" comment that sends Nicki, the youngest voice on the panel, into a fit. It's the last straw and her apparently fragile ego is crushed, shutting down production for the day and leaving a crowd of confused auditioners like refugees in the bowels of the racetrack facilties.
This is the Idol the episode seems to want us to believe we've signed up for. But it's only a fraction of what the new panel has to offer, and frankly, it only adds to their effectiveness as an entertaining, yet informative entitity.
Immediately after the meltdown, we return and we're suddenly in a TMZ-sponsored zombie movie/breakup video about how production shut down. Yeah, we got that. Drama, drama, drama. But when we finally return to the contestants and meet Navy Reserve member Brandy Hamilton , a sweet little singer who lights up the room and has what Mariah calls "pippity pow," she leaves the room with her ticket to Hollywood, saying "Please don't fight, it makes me sad." It touches Nicki and has an almost cleansing effect; and for the rest of the episode, the judges just work, so well in fact, that I might even be willing to use the words "adorable" and "Nicki Minaj" in the same sentence. Mariah even starts making an effort to make sure Nicki knows any insult thrown at a contestant's hat doesn't pertain to Nicki's glorious collection. It's almost like magic.
But things weren't even all that bad before the cleansing fight. Well, they weren't bad on the judges' side of the table. Keith and Nicki were sharing trail mix like two best friends on their first school field trip to the Natural History Museum, but the producers brought on the gauntlet of weirdos. That's a surefire way to may anyone a little grumpy.
First up is Naomi Morris, a fashionista from Charlotte who makes her own clothes. She's wearing a spiky bra under a blazer like a Mad Max character on a job interview, but Nicki loves it and gives her a nickname: "Omi." It's a good thing the only binding thing about these meetings is that three "yeses" equal a ticket to Hollywood, because Nicki's nicknames aren't exactly star-makers. Surprise, surprise, Omi can't really carry a tune. The great thing about the way the judges react is that while Nicki feigns sickness and Mariah can't even look at the girl, once they recover, they're actually quite sweet, making sure to praise her for what she's doing right: designing her own clothes. The moment's overshadowed a tad by Mariah's comment that Omi's spiky gold bra wouldn't fit Nicki, but it's there. These judges are good value.
Moving right along, we meet Joel Nemoyer, a 20-year-old who likes to sing while laying down, a technique he learned by watching Chris Daughtry that one time during a mentoring session on Idol. Of course he's awful, but at least he got that controversial viewpoint out there: yep, Nicki looks like cotton candy with her pink hair piled on top of her head. Move along now.
A brief respite comes courtesy of Brian Rittenberry a 27-year-old from Georgia who's married to a cancer survivor, who happens to be the cutest Keith Urban fan there is. While Brian makes his wife's case to the country singer, Ryan Seacrest is outside asking her about her "hall pass situation" with Keith. Don't worry, it's cute. Just trust me on that. Ryan brings her into the room as Brian finishes singing "Let it Be" and earns four "yeses," and the moment is somehow not all that obnoxious. It's quick, and Mrs. Brian isn't screaming or losing her mind in order to get 15 seconds on television. She's just sweet and grateful and super proud of her sweet, singing husband. Okay, she's also pretty stoked about getting to hug Keith. That too. This is how an Idol sob story should work.

In a post-Harry Potter Avatar and Lord of the Rings world the descriptors "sci-fi" and "fantasy" conjure up particular imagery and ideas. The Hunger Games abolishes those expectations rooting its alternate universe in a familiar reality filled with human characters tangible environments and terrifying consequences. Computer graphics are a rarity in writer/director Gary Ross' slow-burn thriller wisely setting aside effects and big action to focus on star Jennifer Lawrence's character's emotional struggle as she embarks on the unthinkable: a 24-person death match on display for the entire nation's viewing pleasure. The final product is a gut-wrenching mature young adult fiction adaptation diffused by occasional meandering but with enough unexpected choices to keep audiences on their toes.
Panem a reconfigured post-apocalyptic America is sectioned off into 12 unique districts and ruled under an iron thumb by the oppressive leaders of The Capitol. To keep the districts producing their specific resources and prevent them from rebelling The Capitol created The Hunger Games an annual competition pitting two 18-or-under "tributes" from each district in a battle to the death. During the ritual tribute "Reaping " teenage Katniss (Lawrence) watches as her 12-year-old sister Primrose is chosen for battle—and quickly jumps to her aid becoming the first District 12 citizen to volunteer for the games. Joined by Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) a meek baker's son and the second tribute Effie the resident designer and Haymitch a former Hunger Games winner-turned-alcoholic-turned-mentor Katniss rides off to The Capitol to train and compete in the 74th Annual Hunger Games.
The greatest triumph of The Hunger Games is Ross' rich realization of the book's many worlds: District 12 is painted as a reminiscent Southern mining town haunting and vibrant; The Capitol is a utopian metropolis obsessed with design and flair; and The Hunger Games battleground is a sprawling forest peppered with Truman Show-esque additions that remind you it's all being controlled by overseers. The small-scale production value adds to the character-first approach and even when the story segues to larger arenas like a tickertape parade in The Capitol's grand Avenue of Tributes hall it's all about Katniss.
For fans the script hits every beat a nearly note-for-note interpretation of author Suzanne Collins' original novel—but those unfamiliar shouldn't worry about missing anything. Ross knows his way around a sharp screenplay (he's the writer of Big Pleasantville and Seabiscuit) and he's comfortable dropping us right into the action. His characters are equally as colorful as Panem Harrelson sticking out as the former tribute enlivened by the chance to coach winners. He's funny he's discreet he's shaded—a quality all the cast members share. As a director Ross employs a distinct often-grating perspective. His shaky cam style emphasizes the reality of the story but in fight scenarios—and even simple establishing shots of District 12's goings-on—the details are lost in motion blur.
But the dread of the scenario is enough to make Hunger Games an engrossing blockbuster. The lead-up to the actual competition is an uncomfortable and biting satire of reality television sports and everything that commands an audience in modern society. Katniss' brooding friend Gale tells her before she departs "What if nobody watched?" speculating that carnage might end if people could turn away. Unfortunately they can't—forcing Katniss and Peeta to become "stars" of the Hunger Games. The duo are pushed to gussy themselves up put on a show and play up their romance for better ratings. Lawrence channels her reserved Academy Award-nominated Winter's Bone character to inhabit Katniss' frustration with the system. She's great at hunting but she doesn't want to kill. She's compassionate and considerate but has no interest in bowing down to the system. She's a leader but she knows full well she's playing The Capitol's game. Even with 23 other contestants vying for the top spot—like American Idol with machetes complete with Ryan Seacrest stand-in Caesar Flickerman (the dazzling Stanley Tucci)—Katniss' greatest hurdle is internal. A brave move for a movie aimed at a young audience.
By the time the actual Games roll around (the movie clocks in at two and a half hours) there's a need to amp up the pace that never comes and The Hunger Games loses footing. Katniss' goal is to avoid the action hiding in trees and caves waiting patiently for the other tributes to off themselves—but the tactic isn't all that thrilling for those watching. Luckily Lawrence Hutcherson and the ensemble of young actors still deliver when they cross paths and particular beats pack all the punch an all-out deathwatch should. PG-13 be damned the film doesn't skimp on the bloodshed even when it comes to killing off children. The Hunger Games bites off a lot for the first film of a franchise and does so bravely and boldly. It may not make it to the end alive but it doesn't go down without a fight.
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The first and most important thing you should know about Paramount Pictures’ Thor is that it’s not a laughably corny comic book adaptation. Though you might find it hokey to hear a bunch of muscled heroes talk like British royalty while walking around the American Southwest in LARP garb director Kenneth Branagh has condensed vast Marvel mythology to make an accessible straightforward fantasy epic. Like most films of its ilk I’ve got some issues with its internal logic aesthetic and dialogue but the flaws didn’t keep me from having fun with this extra dimensional adventure.
Taking notes from fellow Avenger Iron Man the story begins with an enthralling event that takes place in a remote desert but quickly jumps back in time to tell the prologue which introduces the audience to the shining kingdom of Asgard and its various champions. Thor (Chris Hemsworth) son of Odin is heir to the throne but is an arrogant overeager and ill-tempered rogue whose aggressive antics threaten a shaky truce between his people and the frost giants of Jotunheim one of the universe’s many realms. Odin (played with aristocratic boldness by Anthony Hopkins) enraged by his son’s blatant disregard of his orders to forgo an assault on their enemies after they attempt to reclaim a powerful artifact banishes the boy to a life among the mortals of Earth leaving Asgard defenseless against the treachery of Loki his mischievous “other son” who’s always felt inferior to Thor. Powerless and confused the disgraced Prince finds unlikely allies in a trio of scientists (Natalie Portman Stellan Skarsgard and Kat Dennings) who help him reclaim his former glory and defend our world from total destruction.
Individually the make-up visual effects CGI production design and art direction are all wondrous to behold but when fused together to create larger-than-life set pieces and action sequences the collaborative result is often unharmonious. I’m not knocking the 3D presentation; unlike 2010’s genre counterpart Clash of the Titans the filmmakers had plenty of time to perfect the third dimension and there are only a few moments that make the decision to convert look like it was a bad one. It’s the unavoidable overload of visual trickery that’s to blame for the frost giants’ icy weaponized constructs and other hybrids of the production looking noticeably artificial. Though there’s some imagery to nitpick the same can’t be said of Thor’s thunderous sound design which is amped with enough wattage to power The Avengers’ headquarters for a century.
Chock full of nods to the comics the screenplay is both a strength and weakness for the film. The story is well sequenced giving the audience enough time between action scenes to grasp the characters motivations and the plot but there are tangential narrative threads that disrupt the focus of the film. Chief amongst them is the frost giants’ fore mentioned relic which is given lots of attention in the first act but has little effect on the outcome. In addition I felt that S.H.I.E.L.D. was nearly irrelevant this time around; other than introducing Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye the secret security faction just gets in the way of the movie’s momentum.
While most of the comedy crashes and burns there are a few laughs to be found in the film. Most come from star Hemsworth’s charismatic portrayal of the God of Thunder. He plays up the stranger-in-a-strange-land aspect of the story with his cavalier but charming attitude and by breaking all rules of diner etiquette in a particularly funny scene with the scientists whose respective roles as love interest (Portman) friendly father figure (Skarsgaard) and POV character (Dennings) are ripped right out of a screenwriters handbook.
Though he handles the humorous moments without a problem Hemsworth struggles with some of the more dramatic scenes in the movie; the result of over-acting and too much time spent on the Australian soap opera Home and Away. Luckily he’s surrounded by a stellar supporting cast that fills the void. Most impressive is Tom Hiddleston who gives a truly humanistic performance as the jealous Loki. His arc steeped in Shakespearean tragedy (like Thor’s) drums up genuine sympathy that one rarely has for a comic book movie villain.
My grievances with the technical aspects of the production aside Branagh has succeeded in further exploring the Marvel Universe with a film that works both as a standalone superhero flick and as the next chapter in the story of The Avengers. Thor is very much a comic book film and doesn’t hide from the reputation that its predecessors have given the sub-genre or the tropes that define it. Balanced pretty evenly between “serious” and “silly ” its scope is large enough to please fans well versed in the source material but its tone is light enough to make it a mainstream hit.

The film follows the same tired action genre step by step. Ex-con and single dad O2 (Tyrese Gibson) is trying to go straight for the sake of his young son Junior. But when the kid is kidnapped in what seems to be a typical carjacking O2 has to pull out all the stops to get him back. Turns out O2 had some nefarious dealings with a gang overlord named Big Meat (The Game) who likes to hack off people’s body parts with a machete. And now Meat wants some payback taking for ransom the only thing O2 cares about in the entire world [sniffle]. So what’s a guy to do? Pit rival gang leaders against each other hook up with a beautiful street hustler (Meagan Good) rob safety deposit boxes and get caught in an extended car chase that’s what. "It's either all or nothing " realizes O2. Very prophetic. Waist Deep has got some great character names--Meat O2 Coco Lucky Junior. Too bad most of the performances can’t live up to them. Tyrese (Four Brothers) does try his best though as the hunky O2 making a convincing albeit a tad stiff attempt at playing a father who’s whole life is his son. Good (Roll Bounce) gets to wear tight sexy clothes and strut around as Coco O2’s accomplice and eventual love interest as they rob banks Bonnie and Clyde style. Larenz Tate (Crash) plays Lucky O2’s unreliable cousin who actually isn’t lucky at all caught between a rock and hard place. And then there’s Meat played by big-time rapper The Game in his feature debut. With a battered face and covered in tattoos The Game certainly looks like one mean badass wielding a mad machete. Thankfully he doesn’t have to do much more than that. Here’s a few words of advice to would-be actors who want to play effective bad guys: Less is more. It’s movies like these that really give South Central L.A. a bad rep—shoot-outs in the middle of the street in broad daylight the carjacks the depravity the sad stories of little kids getting shot. It’s not exactly a warm and fuzzy place. Of course actor-turned-director/co-writer Vondie Curtis-Hall (best known for his numerous TV guest spots) doesn’t want it to be showing the grit in all its glory and collecting a cast from the area who could lend some credibility to the surroundings. But Hall needs a few more lessons in how to craft a well-thought action movie. The script is hackneyed beyond the usual taking bits not only from Bonnie and Clyde but also Thelma and Louise Boyz N the Hood--and even a little Shawshank Redemption. Hall’s camerawork is also too frenetic at times almost dizzyingly so with unnecessary close ups and choppy sequences. That isn’t to say some of the gun play and car chases aren’t exciting enough. There just seems to be a lack of experience overall.